


An Abandoned Puppy

by silent_turnip



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: Abduction, Age Regression, Child Abuse, De-aged Ripley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7406269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silent_turnip/pseuds/silent_turnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luther receives an anonymous photo which lead him to a trail of dead bodies and an undersized Ripley in need of his help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

An official disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I would love to give Idris Elba and Warren Brown a hug and a congratulatory cup of tea. These events are based soon after the end of Series Two.

Luther plodded towards the exit, rubbing his eyes wearily, flexing his hands from paper work. Now, if only he could get a few days of murderers behaving themselves, he could actually get some sleep before the next case.

Then his phone pinged.

He flicked it on and found himself staring at the slightly blurring photo of a quiet car park. No text, no bodies, no figures walking through, and sent from an unfamiliar phone number, it all sent him wearily back towards the elevator and back up to the crime offices he had just bid goodnight.

Despite the late hour and near-deserted floor, Benny was still square-eyed in front of his computer and barely looked up when Luther murmured "Hey, Benny, mate, can you run a quick search on this, please?"

"Yeah, sure! What's the occasion?"

Luther frowned at the photo, and said "Not sure. Just something left over to check out."

Five minutes later, he was sitting in his car, still frowning at his phone. The picture wasn't part of the previous case, nor any case before that. It was far too simple and unsophisticated for Alice, who was cryptic and dramatic enough to have splashed her signature over something addressed to him. Schenk, DS Gray and Ripley, and even Jenny, would have rung already. This was a puzzle...Luther started up the car, and began backing out of the car park.

Nearing by the allotment, Luther's eyes scanned the dimly-lit area as he carefully parked and stepped out onto the pavement, double-checking the gun concealed by his coat.

Clicking through his phone until he reached the photo, he turned on a hand torch and tucked his phone away as he walked slowly into the car park to find the photographer or the scene. He stalked through the lot in a fluid hunt, until he paused at a sudden, soft whimper off to his right.

Snapping his head around, he focused on a small bundle of stained blanket slumped again the far brick wall and started to approach it cautiously. No bigger than a gym bag, there was another small whimpered and the tip of a foot tumbled from the shadowed folds.

Luther ran over and dropped to his knees, gently reaching out with his free hand to pull back a corner of blanket, immediately revealing a dazed pair of brown eyes staring into his own. Quickly scanning for blood, Luther pulled the blanket back further and spotted the top of an over-sized singlet and dark bruising before an arm shot out and clutched his wrist, tugging the blanket closed again. All that was visible was the child's wide, barely focused eyes, as he flinched back from Luther's looming form.

"Calm down, mate, shush, you're safe now," John murmured, trying to squeeze himself into a smaller, non-threatening figure. His mind raced: what on earth this kid was doing out here?! And what did he have to do with this?! Is this is a new case, was he targeted, was he-?

He started as his wrist was seized and the boy whispered "...Luther?"

Staring intently at the kid now, Luther picked up his abandoned torch and leaned forward as the boy shifted again and groaned. He positioned it so the light illuminated without blinding, and peered closely, looking for familiarity.

Scanning his face, John tried to see past the blood and blanket. Maybe 7, maybe 8 years old at best, the kid was curled up on his right side and was dressed in what appeared to be an adult's singlet and cotton boxers. With a olive tinge to the skin, the dark eyes and close-cropped curls, the kid could have been Ripley's little cousin, there was definitely a resemblance.

"Hey, mate, what's your name?"

The brown eyes, squinting in the bright light, blinked, confused. "Wha..." The boy moved to sit up, then slumped again with a painful gasp. "...Boss?"

"Your name? What is it?"

"...DS Justin Ripley. Boss, what's happened?"

Luther slumped against the wall himself and dragged his hands down his face. This was impossible. It had to be impossible. Nothing he had heard of, nothing he had ever seen, seemed to make this real. But the kid didn't seem to be lying, and even if this was a bizarre scheme, hoax, trap, whatever, there was a hurt child abandoned in an old car-park and that was something he could fix.

Giving his head a shake to clear it, he made up his mind and reached over to gently tuck the blanket around the kid's shivering body.

"Okay, Justin, listen to me and we'll get through this."


	2. Chapter 2

Not a medic or a scientist but I'll try and make this credible. Please prepare for your suspension of disbelief.

Justin blinked and uncurled a bit, his bleary eyes still struggling to focus on Luther beside him.

"I'm listening, Boss." The voice trailed a bit as he screwed his face up in discomfort and winced inwards.

John took a moment to regain his composure and angled the torch further to highlight the small frame and dirty wraps. He tapped Justin's small hand clutching the blanket, enough to get his attention back. John dropped his voice to a softer, coaxing tone.

"Right, I know you're cold but I need to shift the blanket and check for injuries. Any sudden pain, any time you want me to stop, you tell me."

Going by the blood-stained blanket, the large gash on the forehead and woozy expression, he knew there was definitely a concussion but his glimpse under the blanket had promised further injuries. There was a ragged hmm from Justin and his grip loosened slightly.

Gently moving the blanket back, Luther got a good look at the boy's bruises. The kid really was a tetchy thing, swamped even in the few clothes he had on and shivering in the cool wind. He had the lanky look of a growing child but the dark, giant hand-shaped bruises wrapped around his shoulders and arms dwarfed his small frame.

Justin was crumpled up on his right side in a pseudo-foetal position, with his left arm sprawled behind his back so the forearm was trapped between his body and the wall, scrapping against the rough brickwork. The forearm looked discoloured and the angle promised a least a fracture but, amazingly, Justin didn't give a peep as John nudged it accidentally.

Searching with his fingertips, and ignoring the small whimpers, Luther lifted the fabric of the singlet and delicately felt the torso underneath for any deeper injuries, his hand slowing as he noticed some darker bruising and swelling on his elevated left side.

There was a pained cough and his body twitched back as the kid moved to sit up again.

" Justin, Justin, stop!" John caught him as he threatened to fall against his left arm. Re-wrapping the blanket around him to cushion the concrete, Luther shrugged off his jacket and draped that over the cold bundle. Justin was emerging out of his shocked daze and the pain would hit him soon. And the boy's resemblance to Ripley was becoming more obvious...

"Boss, please, something's wrong, what's wrong with my voice, what happened?" Justin twisted his head around to see Luther. "Boss, what is it?!"

"I need you to keep calm, Justin, and answer some questions. Can you do that for me?" He had fallen back into the voice he used on victims, he knew it, but the kid took a breath and inclined his head.

"Right, Justin, how old are you?"

"Thirty-three."

"And how did we meet?"

"Volunteered. The...the case. With the girl, the Morgan shooting."

"Right, Justin, another question: do you know how you got here?"

A small pause and his forehead furrowed. "I-I don't remember, Boss, sorry. We finished up the case, arsonist Walter Benson, and then... And then...what day is it, sir?"

Luther cupped Justin's head as he carefully shone light to check his pupils' reactions. "Doing well, Justin, doing well! The case wrapped up yesterday, on Thursday. It's Friday night now, so just a day to go. Do you remember anything else, the smallest thing?" Ghosting over the bloody gash on the forehead, Luther checked the back of his head for bumps and gathered the back of the blanket just enough to form a small pillow as he lowered his head back down.

"Not really, Boss, sorry. I can't remember much at all. I-I think I left to head home. I had my keys in my hand, and then... John, please, what's wrong with me?" Justin's voice struggled to remain calm now, as Luther struggled to think of the right response. His voice rose in pitch as he wriggled, freezing with a gasp of pain and panic at the sight of his small right hand in front of him.

At a loss of what to do, John reached out and lifted Justin and the sodden blanket to be cradled in his lap, pushing Justin's head up against his shoulder as he began to whimper. Shushing him softly, John carefully supported the boy's left side and adjusted his coat to shelter them both from the cold. The raised hand began to shake violently as the blanket slipped down to show more of his scraped, bruised body.

He hadn't the foggiest what to do to make it better. He sat there, leaning his weight against the wall, as Justin worked his way through his panic and Luther tried to reason what to do next.

Justin had quietened down and an awkward silence had fallen between them.

"Boss, John. Just – what are we going to do?"

Loosening his grip, Luther looked down at Justin and sighed. "Justin, do you have any idea how you got here, like this? 'Cause I'm at a loss."

Ripley shut his eyes and shook his head. His voice caught in his throat as he replies, "No, Boss. No idea."

"Right, well, we can't stay here forever. You need that arm looked at properly, probably some stitches for that cut at the very least, before we do much else. But we're going to have to sort this out." He nudged the kid to get his attention. "Justin, I'm gonna move us to the car now. You alright to stand up? "

Justin took a breath and nodded. Straightening himself, Luther pushed himself up against the wall as he lowered Justin's legs beside him, taking pains to steady the kid and adjust the blanket and coat around his shoulders. The boy hissed through his teeth as the blood flowed down to his legs and woke his bruised nerves. He jolted his left arm, snatching it back up and cradling it to his chest as Luther gave him another searching glance. The breathing was shallow and posture was a bit too hunched over at the waist to calm his worries.

"Mate, you good? The car is not far, but far enough."

"Yea, Boss," gasp, "I'm good."

"Okay. Right." Standing up straight and scanning the car-park, John hunted for any sign of movement in the shadows or periphery. It must have been nearing midnight but the photo proved someone knew Ripley was here. Seeing nothing, he rested his hand on Justin's shoulder and nudged him in the direction of the exit. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

They took a few slow steps across the allotment, Justin limping slightly as he favoured his left side and tender soles, until John couldn't take it much longer and carefully scooped the boy back into his arms. Despite Justin's initial squeak of protest and short struggle, they reached the car quickly and, with Justin bundled in the back, Luther drove away.


	3. Chapter 3

I have limited knowledge of A&E and police interactions. Lot of Google research.

They slowed and pulled over to the side of the road, and Luther turned off the engine, twisting back to check on the kid. Ripley had slumped lower and lower against the back leather seat in his trance of shock, but jolted out of his numbness as the door was pulled open and John stretched in prop him upright. Not reacting as Luther unwrapped him from the blanket and placed it in an evidence bag, he suddenly stared and flinched back as there was pressure on his shoulder and Luther tugged his hurt arm.

"Stop, don't!"

Luther silently held up a familiar grey jumper and offered it to Justin. He rubbed his hand over his tired eyes as he watched the kid slowly work to tug it over his head, intervening to ease the strain on damaged ribs by negotiating Ripley's swollen left arm through the sleeve and rolling it up to uncover his hand. The jumper, having previously hung on Justin with just a bit of slack, now reached his knees. Luther handed Justin a cloth to hold against his cut head and ducked lower to pull spare socks over his cold feet and grazed shins.

"Justin..."

"Yes, Boss?"

John tucked his coat tighter around Justin and carefully studied the boy's face as he stayed knelt by the door frame.

"I haven't a clue what's going on. But this-" gesturing at Justin roughly, "- this doesn't look like it's gonna be easy to fix. And we've got to figure out what to do in the meantime."

Justin glanced up quickly. "Boss, what are you thinking of?"

It had been a really, really long day. "We've two options as to what we do next. We could go to Schenk, I could ring him now, get the task force on the case and work through official lines to find out who is responsible. Or you and I could work on this on our own, try solving it ourselves before we bring in the higher-ups. What do you want to do?"

Justin looked down at his body, staring at his exposed hands and woolen toes before tucking them away from view inside the folds of the coat. He bit his lip nervously as Luther waited silently.

"I...They...What if they keep me off the case? I'm...not normal, there'll be questions, and..." He trickled off as tremors hit.

Luther sighed and reached in, pulling Justin up into a hug and a lift out of the car. "Nothing's going to be solved tonight. But we still need to get your arm seen to. Now, next question: what we gonna' tell the doctors?" And he set off down the road, carrying Ripley towards the nearby hospital's A&E.

Justin struggled against Luther's arms as they neared the glow of the entrance, gritting his teeth in pain when he jostled his injuries. "Let me down, I'll be fine." John tightened his grip, just enough, to make a point. "DS Ripley, you're bleeding and look like you've barely learned how to read. Let me deal with this. Just shush and I'll sort it."

Once Luther stepped through the automatic door the emergency department was rows of people sprawled or hunched over the seats, coughing, groaning and quiet vomiting. John strode up to the triage desk and tapped on the glass window, holding up his badge while he shifted Justin's weight along his side. "Excuse me, I'm a detective on urgent police business and I've got an injured child here, found with a head injury and possible broken left arm. Can I get some help here?"

Justin shrunk back into Luther as a nurse came around and peered at him, freezing as she pulled the coat back slightly to get a peek at the rest of him. Luther held up his badge again and gestured for her to hurry up. She flashed a quick friendly smile at the boy, eyeing John suspiciously as she ushered them through the swing doors and to an empty cubicle. As the nurse popped out to fetch a doctor, John carefully set his bundle down on the bench. As Justin felt Luther's arms let him go and start shifting back, he panicked, and Luther had to unexpectedly disentangle himself from Justin's white-knuckled hand clutching his shirt. John paused as the fingers tightened. "You have to calm down, it'll be alright."

Justin quickly released his grip and tucked himself together into a painful ball under the thick coat, murmuring "Sorry, Boss."

John gave Ripley's cushioned shoulder a comforting squeeze and sat down in the nearest chair, just as the nurse returned, pulling back the curtain for the doctor. Justin gripped the coat tighter as the doctor pulled a stool close so he could address Luther and examine the boy.

"Hello, I'm Dr Sayeed. I've been told this is a police matter, could we step out and discuss it while Sarah here gets things started?" The woman moved forward to get Justin's attention while the doctor motioned Luther out the curtain with little room for refusal. Luther stood up and began to move away, but Justin's hand darted out and grabbed his sleeve again. The kid blushed and immediately let go, but the message was clear.

The doctor paused for a moment and then handed Luther a clipboard of forms, speaking in a subdued tone while Justin ignored the nurse's attempt to befriend him. "Regardless of police procedure, we need to know as much as possible to provide the best possible treatment. What happened?"

"The boy was found an hour, wrapped in a blanket in a empty parking lot. About seven years old, the case is possibly related to other open investigations, so there is not much I can disclose. He's said his name is Justin but not much else. We just need his immediate injuries assessed and treated." John kept an eye on Justin. The cover story they agreed on was minimum.

The doctor moved closer and sat on the end of bed, trying to look friendly to Justin but still shooting glances at John. "Justin, is it? I'm a doctor, I just need to take a look at you and see what I can do to make you feel better. Will you let me do that?"

Luther could see Justin goggle at Dr. Sayeed but he uncurled a bit and pushed away the coat enough to reveal his left arm, shakily holding it out for inspection. Moving slowly to not startle, the doctor gently reached out and rolled the sleeve up further to reveal more of the bruising decorating the forearm and elbow. He felt along the bone, prompting a stifled gasp, and carefully manipulated the wrist and fingers to check mobility. "Thank you, Justin, you're being very brave. Sarah, can I have a – thanks" He rested it against a pillow the nurse quietly handed him. Throughout this Justin was obviously trying maintain a staunch expression but grimaced with the pain.

"Now, can you tell me how this happened? How did you hurt your arm?" The doctor watched Luther as he tried to coax the coat away from Justin, reluctant to give up a gifted security blanket and mute to the questions.

John reached over to rest his hand briefly on Justin's shoulder and help him relax. "Don't worry, we can wait until we get you home again."

Dr. Sayeed frowned as he managed to tug the coat back enough to uncover the kid's skinny knees and a bloody cut along the side of right calf. "It would help us if we knew how he was hurt. Did you notice anything important before you brought him in?"

John didn't look at Justin. "I'm afraid that's still under investigation. Boy was bit out of it when picked up, but his reactions were normal. He's bruised about the ribs." Justin was silent as Dr. Sayeed smiled at him, and twitched back as gloved hands reached towards his face. "Hey, Justin, can you talk to me? How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, thank you sir." Justin spoke softly.

"Good boy, very polite! Right, Justin, I just need to check your head's okay and have a look under that jumper. You're being really brave, you're a tough kid. Just be patient a bit longer and this will be over before you know it."

He turned to Luther. "So far, that arm is definitely broken and it looks like he's going to need stitches for that head wound. Can you ring the parents and ask them to come in? We need to run some tests that could take a while."

Luther and Justin exchanged looks again and both sighed. They both braced themselves for a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

Both were still tense and weary as Luther supported a semi-conscious Ripley to the car in the wee hours of the morning.

The nursing staff had spent hours treating Justin as a traumatised victim, something that Luther wouldn't have minded if they hadn't interrogated him every time he had stepped away from Justin's side. He would have taken the boy and left ages ago if the hospital wouldn't have reported it. And Benny probably would have asked for what drugs he was on rather than bury the report.

Looking down at Justin, John wished for tea. Coffee. Sleep. Neither had had any sleep because of the non-stop attention and tests. The doctors had insisted on detailed x-rays of Ripley's arms and his ribs, complete with a full body MRI, numerous blood tests, and the resident psychologist had made a few surprise visits.

Luther had appreciated the enthusiasm and effort, deep down, but the rushed tests and rescheduling for quick results meant Luther had had a rubbish night. Blasted doctors and nurses asking about what happened, who the boy was, where his mum and dad were. He couldn't explain everything, and every attempts to avoid or hurry them was treated with suspicion. Most of the questions they asked were the same as his. There were needle marks in the crook of his left arm which were hidden by the bruises. When they noticed Justin didn't have any clothes of his own, he could see them whispering in corners, wanting to run more tests, wondering why the kid didn't speak to them and why Luther was the only person there with him. They had even threatened to admit Justin as a patient for 'observation' and to involve child social services. John prayed to God they didn't.

That being said, Justin was looking healthier, if not happier, for the experience. The nurse, Sarah had spent the first hour sponging away the blood and grime from any skin that was poked out from under the coat as Dr. Sayeed organised the scans. Justin was quite reluctant to part with John's clothes but eventually John was handed his coat and jumper in the move to Radiography. Justin lay on the table in his pants and singlet - after the first refusal of a gown, the medical team had appealed to Luther with little success - and John stood behind the screen, forming a list of what to do, where to go, after they left.

Eventually the two of them were left in a spare cubicle to await test results. Having stoically sat through Sarah's cooing platitudes as she applied four stitches to his forehead and installed an intravenous drip, Luther was able to sit and talk to Justin without interruption.

"...Hey mate, how you holding up?"

Justin was once again swamped in John's jumper and gave just a weary look in return. Any gaps between clothes was filled by gauze and medical tape over gashes and grazes. The large needle snaking into his right arm to re-hydrate was mirrored by ice packs and a brace on his bruised left arm.

The weak smile he shot towards Luther was reassuring, though. Justin had been quiet all throughout all the scans, spending the majority of the time watching the doctors nervously and barely answering beyond 'yes, sir, no, sir.'

At the same time, the doctors and nurses were being sensitive to his young age, and praised him for 'a brave boy,' offering him dinosaur stickers and jellybeans. Otherwise they spent the time exchanging meaningful glances over his head and presented all findings to his boss, tutting at Justin's skittish behavior and asking whether his parents could be called in. The nurse had encouraged him to hold Luther's hand during his stitches, and she had left a teddy bear on the side table.

"Can we leave, boss?"

"That depends if they let us. I'm not sure how likely that is, but, assuming we do, you can't go home. I received a sick note from your email account two days ago, they abducted you from work, they most probably know where you live."

"But, boss-"

"Not tonight, at least. I'm too sleepy for all this planning, same goes for you, and since we still have no idea what the doctors will decide, just sit still and cross your fingers."

After another half hour, Dr. Sayeed came in with an armful of charts and spent the next hour arguing. According to the tests, Justin was a seven year old boy with a buckle fracture to the left forearm and the remnants of Thiamylal in his blood work. Beyond the obvious scraps, dizziness and bruised ribs, there was little, medically, that the hospital could treat.

"It would be advisable to stay here for further testing, but we have forwarded you the scientific results for the investigation" said Dr. Sayeed.

Luther pushed himself up from his chair. "Thank you very much, doctor. If that is all, we need to get to the station, so is there anything Justin needs before we leave?"

It was 4 o'clock in the morning when they left the hospital. Justin had a dark blue, elbow-high plaster cast secured in a sling, stitches and a band-aid holding his head together. Dr. Sayeed had decided his ribs were badly bruised, along with the rest of him, and handed Luther a pain prescription. And they had given back John's coat, so Justin was swaddled in that as he was carried back to the car.

John just given his sergeant a look when he started trying to discuss the case. They were heading back to John's flat.

John knew his sergeant was out of it enough for it not be awkward for him to carried, but there was no way he would be stumbling around where he could be snatched again, not now.

He had stopped off at a 24-hour pharmacy to grab Ripley's pain killers, but he also took a moment to scrub the sleep and stress off his face. All those tests at the hospital had made one thing clear: Justin was a regular seven year old. Blood tests, x-rays, scans all came back normal. And so John was now stuck with a very troubled DS and a massive question of how!

With the boy dozing off against the window of the passenger door, it was clear nothing could be done tonight. Justin had been quiet the whole way and they were both dead on their feet. Just as he was parking the car, he turned the car off and paused before nudging Justin back into reality.

"Justin?"

The boy looked up.

"You're not the only person staying at my flat. There is a girl called Jenny. I helped her out of a bad situation about a month ago. She's a good person and sleeps in the spare room, and she'll probably help us out. Just don't tell her anything yet, yeah? She's been in enough danger already, she's got her own problems."

"Yes Boss. Understood."

Apart from a squeak of protest as John lifted him out of the car, and at the pressure on his ribs, it had been an awkward silence in the car and in the lift. The small weight draped on his right shoulder and his chest was delicately shifted to fetch the door keys.

As they walked into the flat, Luther pushed Justin towards the couch and went to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Pausing at all the used mugs, he leaned out the serving bench.

"I'm grabbing tea. You want anything?"

Justin was already slumped on the couch. John prodded him awake enough to swallow down a painkiller, cushioned his head and arm, and left him to snooze beneath his grey coat.


	5. Chapter 5

Justin was asleep, curled up on the couch with his plaster cast the only visible limb poking out from under the coat, propped up on the one precariously perched cushion. All under the watch of Jenny, who was sitting two metres away on a dining chair and staring at him as she chewed her toast.

Luther stumbled into the kitchen from his room and fumbled around until he hit the switch for the kettle to boil. He was still wearing his crumpled work clothes and barely jumped when Jenny turned and pointed.

"Who's he then? Are you babysitting now? Are you collecting strays? I got a right to know if I'm being replaced with some snotty-nosed brat!"

John blinked blearily and glanced at the couch before ruffling through the cupboards until he found teabags. "What time is it? You're far too annoying for it to be morning."

"It's ten or something. I got some sleep, unlike you and Snotty over there."

"His name's Justin. Be nice; he's had a tough few days."

There was a small groan and the coat fell to the side as Ripley twisted around. Squinting out at the world, he spied Jenny and started. Knocking his elbow, he hissed through his teeth and grabbed his arm to brace it. Luther moved to stop him but Justin let out a yelp and froze at the sound of his childlike squeak. "Hey kid, brat, Josh, Snotty, whoever you are, hey, hello!" Jenny said with a wave. John gave her a hard look, but it broke Justin out of his shock and back into a wide-eyed gaze about the room.

"Hey, Justin, good sleep?" Luther walked across the room and carefully placed two mugs down on the table, nudging Jenny in the ribs as he did. "Got some tea ready. Hold still, I'll get you something for the ribs."

As John left for his room, Jenny eyeballed Justin. "How you get them bruises? Mum, Dad, step-dad, Mum's weird boyfriend?" He grimaced. "No." Speaking was weird – his voice didn't feel like his own, and the girl's stare was uncomfortable. As was the giggle at his expression.

Justin sat up slowly, his right hand groping along for handholds as he painfully eased his torso up to rest against the back of the sofa. He was still wearing John's jumper over the remains of his clothes and he tugged his left sleeve down to hide his new cast, cradling his arm carefully in his lap. Jenny followed his movements like a bored cat.

"Jenny, Justin. Justin, Jenny. Now you know each other, can we move on?" John was back. He handed Justin a glass of water and a pill, and carefully sat on the couch next to him with a mug of tea.

"Jenny, how the job-hunting going?"

"Rubbish. Been emailin' magazines about cool-hunters, but they're idiots that don't write back. And I'm not burger-flipping, not matter what you fink. Or baby-sitting" She looked pointedly at the kid on the seat.

Justin sat quietly as they chatting about stupid things while he settled into his new body. Still couldn't remember. It hurt to try. But at least Luther was there – he was safe, he was warm, Luther didn't treat him any different. So why was he a kid?

Luther brought him back to the present with a quick ruffle of his hair. "Hey, mate, drink your tea. We've got a big day today."

"Yes, Boss." It was hard to hold a mug in his small right hand, but he ignored that. "What are we doing?"

"For a start, you need new clothes and shoes. There's been no news of another case yet, so we got time to sort ourselves out, get ready, before we dive into this. I already text Benny about tracing the person who sent that photo, no reply yet. So...how about a quick shopping trip? Jenny, want a lift into town?"

Getting Justin to the car was harder than it had been before. Even with a thick pair of Luther's socks on his feet, Luther wasn't just going to let him roam around the estate, but, now the shock and doziness of last night had worn off, Justin was trying to regain his composure and maturity. And Luther could respect that, when he didn't have to care for a Ripley that weighs 45 pounds and could get snatched up by child protection services.

When Justin shuffled out of his reach, Luther sighed and just scooped him up, ignoring the wriggling and muttered protests.

"Jenny, take the keys and carefully move the car closer to the front, please! We'll be down in a tick."

Jenny smirked a bit as she exited and Justin amped up his complaining. "Boss – John – put me down, I can walk."

John talked as he carried Justin to the door. "Justin, we need to get some things clear. Someone nabbed you off the street, turned you into a concussed kid and sent me to find you. We're lucky the doctors didn't just admit you and call the station. Not only that, you're hardly in a state to roaming around barefoot dressed only in a large jumper, and there's no way you're going home to be grabbed again. 'Til we sort this out, I'm not asking you to act like a child, just to shush up and let me help you."

Justin was quiet after that, stiff in John's grip as he held him against his torso, his good arm clutching the collar of John's jacket. Just as they were at the lift, he tucked himself a bit closer into John's chest and gave a small sigh. "All right Boss. I just want this to be solved, fast."

A comforting, gentle pat on the shoulder. And then there was a stranger in the lift and it was back to awkward for the long ride down to the ground floor and to Jenny eyeing Justin like an unwanted toy.

Going on a trip through the children's section at Woolworth's, both Luther and Ripley looked pained. Justin was resigned to the need but resented the dependence. John understood. And Jenny had seen the outing as an opportunity to illustrate her 'cool-hunting' ability by dressing a reluctant doll. Justin almost refused to leave the car but he was pulled along for John's peace of mind and to judge sizing.

"Favourite colour? Nope, I don't care, it's probably rubbish anyway. Ha, I bet you like Spongebob, Spiderman, all that shit. You can't just have shoes, I've seen your clothes, they're mingin'! I'll make you cool - suck that, fuckin' mag editors!"

"Sorry Boss." Justin muttered. He was finally allowed to walk along beside John, but unconsciously leaned in close to John's side as he shied away from glances by passersby. At this point he was practically pressed against his leg to avoid strangers' stares and Jenny measuring clothes on him. All his cards, cash, everything in his wallet had been taken by his kidnapper, and John was keeping a sharp eye on Jenny as she rummaged through racks and shelves. He noted some of the staff watching them, particularly Jenny's storm through the clothes, and Justin's obviously painful hobble. If they called the police, it would not go well.

"We need you dressed if we gonna be investigating. Be more worried about what Jenny's choosing for you – never seen you in plain clothes and now you're her little fashion experiment. Don't forget socks, Jenny!"

It was a triumphant Jenny who emerged from the shop, followed by a grumpy Justin. John had tried to give him his space, and had kept quiet when he had to help Justin change, to the point of pulling his new boots on and tying the laces for him. Justin had been sitting on a bench with a staunch face while John was knelt beside him and Jenny sniggered.

John had a hold of the new school bag full of spare clothes so Justin could concentrate on tugging his sleeve down over his bad arm. The clothes... weren't bad, actually. At least she had avoided the childish cartoon characters and gone with simple jeans, striped t-shirts, a warm hoodie and jacket. Justin could have done without the batman boxers and socks though.

John had finished unwrapping a new phone and was handing it to Justin when his own rang.

"Luther."

Schenk. "Sorry but we've got a case. String of bodies found, death cased as abnormal. Get over to the office now; this has been flagged as a potential bio-hazard attack."

"On my way."

He turned to see Justin's big eyes watching him and Jenny's half-bored half-scared expression. Both knew Luther would take the case and neither wanted to be left to baby-sit the other. Jenny Luther knew would be alright but Ripley...

John couldn't abandon him. Not now. Unless...


	6. Chapter 6

John crouched down to Justin's level and scanned his face. Seeing Ripley's reactions on a child's face was harder, gauging how much Ripley followed beyond the pain and dismorphia. He'd felt the desperate grip on his coat, seen the need for re-assurance. John quashed any guilt and hoped Ripley would adjust quickly.

"Justin. Justin, I have to go."

"Boss?" Wild eyes searched his face, and Justin's right hand clutched his broken arm closer to his body. Ripley took a deeper breath, working to stay composed. "Where are you going, what do you need me to do?"

John spared a glance for Jenny, the teen leaning against the car, still happily checking out Justin's clothes as she played with her phone and awaited John's dismissal. "Jenny'll be able to take you to a safe house. She knows which one. I'll see if there is any news at the office - anything on you, any similar cases, get that blanket tested, you know. Meantime you keep your head down and alert up, and ring me if there's trouble. 'Kay?"

Justin chewed his lip as he nodded and held his good arm out for the school bag.

"Good man! Jenny, I'm going to need you to stick around a bit longer! Short errand, promise."

Jenny was not happy to be stuck with 'Snotty' for an errand, particularly when Luther handed her the bag, ignoring Justin's frown, and some money for the bus. "But I got stuff to do, jobs and shit! Not go 'round wiping noses, acting like his nanny and stuff!"

"Hey, I'm trusting you to get Justin there! Wouldn't ask if I didn't need to, but he needs to get somewhere safe and I've a case. Can you do this?"

Jenny spared a glance towards Justin, leaning against one of the surrounding car with his torso curled to ease his ribs and protect his broken arm. "Bad guys after him? The 'no cops' sort of thing?"

"He's in danger and I'm trying to figure out a way to fix this. Will you help?"

She huffed and pushed herself away from the car. "Alright then."

"Good." John went over to Justin for a few final words. Gently helping him tuck his broken arm back into a sling, John handed Justin his bottle of pain-killers to treat the inevitable backlash once the morning dose wore off. Ripley stayed quiet as he did.

"Justin, you'll be okay. Jenny's alright, she moans a bit but she'll take care of you."

"Where am I going, boss?"

"A friend took care of Jenny for a few day a while back. He'll look after you 'til I get back." Justin slumped a bit. "Not saying you can't, but I'm not leaving you alone 'til we know who attacked you. Justin, you'll be fine!"

He gave Justin a brief one-armed hug and stepped away. "I will ring if I know anything. See you later."

Jenny flicked Justin's ear when Luther's car was out of view. "C'mon Snotty, let's get this over with." Justin gave her a studied look. "C'mon!" She grabbed his hood and starting roughly tugging him along. Justin stumbled a bit and grunted in pain, but followed Jenny in a stumbling pace for a few streets until they found a bus stop.

Waiting for the bus, Jenny looked down at Justin. "Why's he all interested in you then? What you do for him to want ya?" Justin shrugged, guarded. "C'mon you dumb kid, just tryna make conversation." She stuck her hand out. "Grab it. Meant to get you there in one piece. Doesn't mean I like you, and no bragging to any piddly friends about this."

Justin reluctantly reached out and gripped her hand. He could feel how small his hand was next to hers. He looked away. "Thank you." Jenny tugged his hood up and grinned. "There. Now you look gangster. Tough and what not. If I have to babysit, it's gonna be some cool kid, not some a sissy dumbass."

Justin huffed out a laugh.

DSU Martin Schenk was pacing the crime scene when Luther arrived, walking towards him the moment he ducked under the police tape. Hands in his pockets, Luther had no protection for his nose when the smell of the dump site hit him. The swarm of white body-suits and plastic sheets marked where the bodies were among the piles of rubbish.

"John, odd to see you without DS Ripley behind your shoulder. Still sick, is he?"

Luther gave a vague nod. "Yeah. What's this? Where's the world coming to? Bloody cases should allow for coppers to get some decent sleep and a day off."

They walked over and stared at the exposed remains. "How many are there?"

"We've found six so far, but they're searching for more. John, there's no news yet as to how they were killed, but there seems to have been a wide range of victims and ritual. The discolouration, the posing, any obvious injuries; there's no real similarities apart from the mode and site of disposal."

Luther looked down at one particular body. Early-mid twenties, tan male, medium build, with patches of skin covered in blisters and pustules. The next one was an older woman with what looked like reddish bruises coating her exposed pale legs. Schenk was right - no too were alike.

"Doesn't look to be major physical signs of bodily injury, nothing sexual, most still partially clothed. No obvious preferences in ethnicity, physical type, age range, but at least there are not kids."

"Killer has a conscience then, or at least part of one."

"Boss, are you sure this is one person? I mean, who is this eclectic, this random? There are men here who would be able to put up a fight, able to defend against an attacker. This person has to have had help, so we should be looking at the possibility of this being the work of a group, a team." He paused, musing on the next move.

Schenk mused alongside him, staring off towards the flocks of coroner van being reversed towards them. "Luther, some of these bodies are at least three weeks old. Some as fresh as the last few days. We'll know more when the Medical Examiner's had a look, but this feels like soon we'll be finding another one, if we don't work fast. They've been doing this for too long already. I want these people caught and the case solved as soon as possible, you hear me?"

Luther nodded, still staring down at the bodies and thinking of whoever was out there after Justin.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no good excuse - I am sorry for the long absence in updating this fic

It was when the girls across the aisle started audibly cooing over him that Justin started to shut down. Jenny had been ignoring him and playing on her phone, while three schoolgirls were staring at him and musing on how cute and little he looked, even as he scowled.

Justin was tired of being pulled along by Jenny. She had at least been quiet about acknowledging his size and injury, waiting impatiently as he hopped down the bus steps and holding his bag for him. But now his ribs were aching, he had a headache, he didn't have the patience to be a small kid. Jenny hadn't spoken much, spending most of the time texting and tugging on Justin to get him through the crowd. His hand was sore from the manicured nails digging in. Jenny was not the most responsible or caring nanny.

Now, huddling slightly in Jenny's shadow as the cold wind picked up, he hoped this would be quick. "Settle down, Snotty, Mark's 'right. Bit moral maybe, but not terrible." Justin stumbled as they turned down the deserted street. His tired feet kept catching on the worn paving stones and he clutched Jenny's hand as they stopped at a red, patchy door.

Jenny knocked and shuffled until, after some scuffling noises inside, the door was heaved open.

"Yes?" Mark North leaned out of the door frame with a fluffy kitten perched on his shoulder. "Jenny, what's going on? Where's Luther?"

Justin froze. The complaints against John, the investigation into Zoe Luther's murder, the following trial... He knew this man. Admittedly the man had looked worn out at the time, but now he looked distinctly eccentric with a small ginger cat digging into his cardigan. If Justin was recognised...

He let out a sudden nervous yelp and clamped his hand over his mouth in fright. "And who is this, Jenny?"

Jenny gave him a slight cuff over the head and pushed him towards the door. "This is Justin. John wants you to look after him while he's off doing policing or whatever. Didn't say much, to be honest. Now, I got stuff to do so he's all yours Mark!" She handed the bag over to Mark, gave Ripley a final pat on the head, like some kind of pet, then she was off down the road.

Mark looked down at Justin and eyed his visible bruises. Justin retreated further into his hoodie and just followed the process of the kitten as it tried to tug its tiny claws free of the wool knit.

"Right. You'd better come in then." He stepped aside and Justin took a few hesitant steps indoors. It was dark but the light through the attached greenery illuminated the fluff ball of a ginger tabby nursing four other kittens right next to a sagging armchair. Mark detached the kitten and put it with its mother as he ushered Justin towards a spare seat, placing the bag down beside it.

Mark checked his phone. "No call from Luther but I assume you're in some trouble he's sorting out. Sorry, I'm being rude – hello, I'm Mark."

"Hi." Ripley murmured as he carefully sat down on the chair.

"...Okay. I was just about to make lunch, do you want any?"

Justin took a moment to breathe. His headache had gotten worse and his arm was aching. The awkward silence lingered for too long and Mark tactfully went to tend his plants as Justin slowly curled himself into a bundle on the chair to wait for Luther.

Benny waved Luther over when he walked into the main office. "Sorry mate, that photo was from a burner. Did you find anything?"

"Can't talk, but thanks mate."

Schenk tapped Luther on the shoulder. "John, with the transfer of DS Grey and DS Ripley off sick, you're a bit short on helping hands. As such, I'll be partnered with you for this one. Nice chance to get out from behind the scenes and into the front lines. Is that okay by you?"

"Yes Boss, that's all good! Do we know anymore about the case, who, when, how?"

"The Medical Examiner is still in Autopsy. Her preliminary observations: wide age range but all showed signs of being healthy and reasonably fit before their death. Eight bodies, time of death ranging from approximately four weeks to three days. No definite cause of death yet, but the tox screens are still being run. Let's get to work identifying these – missing persons, criminal records, the usual."

Sitting down at his desk, Luther took a moment to rest his eyes, a hand draped over his face to block the light. The morning tea and office coffee had barely made an impact on his exhaustion, and the previous case and the long night at the hospital had dampened his senses around this investigation. Deep breath and back to work. There was a serial killer to catch.

It took a bit until he realised his phone was ringing.

"Luther."

"John, why did Jenny hand me an abused kid to babysit? Is this another one of your strays?"

"Mark!" He started up a bit. "Is the kid alright?"

"Yes, Justin's fine. Bit quiet. Why is he here?"

"Can't really explain now; it's a long story. Someone dumped him, I don't know who it is yet, and I found him. I need you to keep an eye on him for a while. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I can do that."

"Good, see you later." Luther ended the call abruptly and stared at his screen, thinking...

By the late afternoon John had managed to identify a possible three victims, and Benny and Schenk had got the other five. All from the Islington-Hackney area, no high-profile figures but all reasonable incomes, office workers and trained labourers.

The three men sat and looked at the pictures on the board.

Schenk leaned forward. "The coroner's report is in. Different causes of death but same methods of delivery – all of the victims were injected with a range of unknown compounds which proved fatal. A varying numbers of needle-marks, mostly in the left arm but also bruises which suggest an IV delivery system. All victims killed within three days of going missing. What does that say to you?"

"There's more than one killer, two or more working in a team. At least one has medical training, or is a scientist based off the foreign chemicals. Any correlation between how or where the victims were taken?"

Benny brought up the missing person reports. "Mostly speculation about time or place: family and friends didn't notice they were gone until the next day. Some went missing on a night out, some were at home, one person was shopping after work."

"Okay, so high-risk and low-risk abductions. These people were in good shape, no physical disabilities, different places, different times...Sir, did the coroner note any common physical injuries?"

Schenk flicked through the pages. "Few knocks to the head, a few dislocations of shoulders, all had cuts and bruises on the wrists and ankles, like they were restrained or struggled in some way. Most damage was caused post-mortem, probably while they were being transported to the dump site. Why?"

Luther got up and paced in front of the board, glancing up at the photos.

"They're too diverse. Different ages, different ethnicities, men and women. All fit, healthy adults working in low-risk jobs. No violence outside of restraining their victims, no sexual assault. The time frame has them being grabbed every two, three days, some overlapping so they can hold two or more at once. All the bodies had needle marks, all show signs of restraints, all dumped at the same site..."

"Where are you going with this?"

"We need to find out what they were injected with. That's how they're killing them. No torture, no injuries, just needle-marks. Whatever they're doing to these people, it seems to be linking to that. They could already have a new victim."

With that, Luther paused and looked at the board again.

Quickly sorting out his desk, putting his coat on, he made his excuses to leave, grabbed his car keys and hurried out the door.


	8. Chapter 8

Alice smirked as Luther strode towards her, across the deserted office floor. She hopped off a computer desk and bared her teeth in a vulpine grin.

"I heard you were this close to self-immolation while I was away. You really did miss me, didn't you? Oh, I missed you too."

"Don't have time, Alice, Please, I need your help."

"Oh, what could it be this time? Another heist? A spot of kidnapping?" She gave a gasp and a pout. "Don't tell me, there is a special someone you want to go 'poof'."

"Alice! Ripley is ...!" Luther stopped and took a breath. "Something's wrong."

"Oh." She sat back down on a chair. "What's happened to your dear, little pet? Has your puppy been naughty?"

Luther growled. "Alice, if you cannot help me..." Alice tossed up her hands. "I'm listening, John. Something's wrong with your Ripley. I can't help if I don't know, so go on, tell me." Luther took a few more breathes and fumbled a bit with his phone.

"Ripley was taken and I found him, beaten up and about seven years old."

A hesitant pause. Alice spoke sharply, abandoning usual smugness "John, explain."

Luther just held out his phone to show a picture of Justin in the hospital. Just his head and shoulders sticking out of John's coat, his DS looked very small. Thin, bruised shoulders, a blooded forehead and curls, and Justin's dazed brown eyes looking off towards the curtain of the cubicle. The bruised and swollen left arm was just visible.

Alice grabbed the phone and sat for a bit, just looking, before slapping it on the table between them. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Your university contacts, and your ... special way of approaching a problem. You can look for what did this, what could do this. I've got a case, a case that could be related, but I can't do this alone."

Alice gave a quirk of red lip. "Well, you have definitely caught my interest. Your puppy is more like a pup. You surprised me, and I rarely get surprised." She did lean in closer. "You remember my doctorate is in astrophysics? Hardly the same area of expertise but let it never be said that I don't do my research. No promises but, for you, I'll do some digging."

"Thank you."

"Only because you asked nicely."

Mark had kept his distance from the boy but after an hour he made another attempt to reach out to Justin.

Ripley looked up quickly as Mark approached with a plate of sandwiches and a cup of water. "Here's lunch. You can eat at the table or on the floor if you like, but watch the kittens - they're more agile than you think."

There was a brief exchange of glances and Justin carefully stood up and followed Mark to the table near the kitchen. Justin had to, wincing, lever himself on the chair and barely breached the table, but Mark pushed the sandwiches and glass closer toward him. The boy looked angry at him but he quickly turned away to fetch his own plate.

Sitting down, Mark cleared his throat.

"So, have you anything to occupy yourself with? I wasn't really prepared for visitors."

"I'm fine, thank you."

There was an awkward silence as they chewed.

"Would you like any ice or painkillers - those look painful."

Justin paused. "No, thank you. Has Luther called?"

... "No, would you like him to?"

"No. Thank you."

The rest of the food was quiet aside from the mewing of the kitttens and clink of glass on wood. When Justin shifted to get down, Mark moved as if to help him down, and Ripley violently flinched away. There was a murmured apology to Mark, but the damage was done. Mark kept his distance as Justin painfully hopped off the stool and returned to the arm chair. Despite the small room, there were at least five, six feet between them.

"I'll be reading my book over here if you need me. The kitchen is over there if you would like anything, don't be afraid to fetch what you need. Right."

"Thank you."

And with that, they both sat warily, and started to ignore each other.


	9. Chapter 9

After his meeting with Alice, Luther drove to the nearby university. He had a few links to the science faculty, set up during his time serving in the drug squad. As he had changed to investigating more violent and high-profile cases, he had maintained his connection to Annabel Fisher, who had been a forensic lab intern, now one of the more renowned researchers within her field of bio-chemistry. It was barely half past five in the evening, but he text her to expect him as he dug around in the trunk for the evidence bag.

Benny rang him half-way up the four flights of stairs to the lab.

"Hey John, is this a good time?"

He ducked through nearest open door, apparently some form of cleaner's supply room, and gave a quick glance around. "Yeah, I got a few minutes free. What you got?"

"You know I'm keeping an eye out for you and your 'projects.' Some medical information has been sent in with your name on it, complete with footage and asking if you were a genuine detective. What do you want me to do with it?"

Rubbing his forehead and still looking out into the stairway, John hmmed around for an answer. "Could you email it to my phone, and find a way to disappear it from the rest of the system. Thanks Benny, I own you one."

"Okay, boss. Good luck." And then a brief pause. "If you need any help, I'm trying to avoid the ex-missus, so feel free at any time and any hour to distract me."

"Cheers." He hung up and hurried up the stairs to knock on the reinforced glass doors of Fisher's department.

"Hey, Ann, a favour?" He jingled the plastic bag. "Got a mystery blanket for you."

John spent a few minutes just resting in his car, seat reclined back and eyes closed. There was no time to relax. He had barely eaten, running almost purely on caffeine. A sigh, a knuckling of his eyes, and he stepped out into the dark cold air.

Mark answered the door carefully. "John! It's all over, you solved it?"

John huddled further into his grey-checkered coat and dithered outside. "No. How is he? How has he been?"

"Quiet. Skittish. Seems to be attached to you – he asked if you called."

"Thanks so much for doing this. I'm really sorry for the lack of warning." He started to make his way indoors but Mark stopped him with a raised hand and shut the door behind him.

"You should have warned me. When you left Jenny, that was different. A self-destructive teenage sex worker is someone I can manage. An abused, traumatised young child needs things that are familiar and comforting. I tried to ensue he had space. Encouraging him to move around the flat, removing myself for a couple of short walks to the shops to give him time to relax. I don't think it was very effective."

"I didn't expect to be gone so long. Did anything happen?"

"I'm not sure. Just...take care. Children are simultaneously more fragile and stronger than you think. He's inside, on the floor. Hasn't taken his coat off all day. I think he's been waiting for you."

With that they both stepped indoors.

Justin was sitting on the floor, leaning rather heavily against the dilapidated armchair, his right hand gently stroking three kittens who were curled up on his crossed legs. Luther crouched down next to him and grinned, touching Justin's right shoulder with his elbow to get his attention.

"Named them yet?"

Justin quickly glanced to Luther and then pointed carefully. "That's Molly, that's Olivia, and that spotted one is Theo."

"Really? You're kidding?"

"Good reminders of my nieces and nephew. These three wouldn't leave me alone from the moment I sat down." He gave a small laugh, and stopped almost immediately.

John sat down next to him and paused at Ripley's pale face. "How are you feeling, Justin? You okay?"

"I'll be fine. Boss. Any news, anything useful?"

"Possibly. This case...possibly. You're sure you're alright?"

"Boss, leave it and back to the case."

"Have you remembered anything more about yesterday?"

Justin reached up and wearily rubbed his forehead, grimacing as he did so. "Nothing yet. I'm not much help, am I? What have you found out?" His eyes followed Mark as he crossed the room to put the kettle on.

John hesitated. He stalled, picking up Molly, all tail and brown blotches, and tucked her into the crook of his neck. He tickled her chin as she mewed in protest and took a deep, bracing breath.

"Nothing good. There have been eight adults disappearing around Hackney and Islington, all fit and able, no eye-witnesses, just gone, until..."

"And? What happened to them?" Luther could hear the anxiety surrounding the question, but soldiered ahead.

"We just uncovered the site their bodies were dumped. Looks like all died by injection, with multiple needle-marks in their arms, but the labs are unsure what caused it. Not sure if it's the people who took you, no kids, but still..."

He could feel Ripley flinch and tense beside him. "Hey, Justin! Stay with me, mate! You're here, I'm here; we can fix this!"

Justin turned his head to look at John. His eyes were wide. "I'm a kid, Boss. Don't know why, don't know how, don't know what to do to fix this. I can't go home. I can't work. Can't-"

"Stop thinking, and snap out of it!" John put Molly on the floor and reached an arm around Justin, lightly shaking him to get his attention and get him breathing normally, even though he flinched away again a moment later. "Justin, we're working to fix this. I've got a few friends looking to see what caused this, and the team's on the case. You'll get through this."

Justin looked down at the two kittens now stirring on his lap. "Yes Boss,"

John lifted Olivia. "Good. If you shift...Theo, was it? We'll give them back to Mark and go. Can't stay here when we're both about to drop."

He could tell Justin was in pain and stressed, but he still had his pride. Luther couldn't afford for Justin to lose his focus. Ripley had stood by him, now it was his turn.


	10. Chapter 10

The shift from sitting to standing had Justin clinging to John's coat in order to stay upright, taking a minute until he regained his feet. That and Justin's pale, worn expression had John herding the boy towards the kitchen, picking up Justin's bag and shifting through it. Luther took pains to be subtle in handing Justin a glass of water and a pill bottle before they left Mark's. Turning away and chatting to Mark, he did his best to give the kid some privacy to down painkillers.

"Didn't really peg you as a cat person, Mark."

The man was stooped low to scratch the head of a passing feline. "A friendly stray I met soon after you and Jenny. This little cat would turn up on my door looking for food, purr around my legs, and curl up on my armchair. I didn't even know Alice was female until she had five kittens on my rug."

There was a small splutter. "Alice? Really? I would love to see her reaction to this."

Mark shrugged. "I was originally going to call him Fang. I noticed Justin seemed to take a liking to a few of them? If you want to take a kitten, I've been chatting to the vet and-"

"No, thanks, we're good. Thanks for this. I sort of sprung it on you. I do appreciate your help."

Mark nodded as he glanced back at Justin. "Can you tell me why?"

John saw Justin from the corner of his eye. He moved stiffly as he tugged his bag up off a kitchen chair. Luther could tell Justin was tense under Mark's gaze, retreating further into his coat and fiddling with his sling. Mark had a pitying look as he looked at the boy. The day would have been a long one, for both of them, Mark being particularly troubled with John's new temporary ward. But an explanation would not help matters.

"It's complicated. I'm still working it out."

"... Right. I hope this gets sorted quickly."

"Ta. Come on, Justin, let's go. "

Ripley barely came up to Luther's waist as he passed him in the doorway. Mark came up to the door before John left.

"John. Jenny, she could handle herself. But Justin ... He seems a resilient kid but I hope there is someone there to look after him once this is all over. I'll help out if you need someone, but he looks like he's bonded to you. Good luck!"

And with that, the door was closed and Luther was walking to the car, Justin glaring at the passenger door as he tried to tug it open. Luther unlocked the doors and yanked it open for him. Both of them ignored the awkwardness in their determination to get back to the flat and regain normality.

"Boss, what if he had recognised me? Mr. North – Mark - we met before during that case."

"Justin, he didn't. Relax! Have you been this wound-up the whole day?" Luther glanced down at him as he drove. "Justin, you're safe. Now, what do you want for dinner?"

Justin had to strain slightly to look out the window but soon they were stepping out of the car and walking over to the lifts, back up to the flat with Luther lugging some form of Chinese in steamed up plastic bags.

Stepping inside the door, Justin froze. "Boss..."

Luther peeked around the frame and swiftly pushed Justin in the direction of his own bedroom. "Just get into that room and wait until I fetch you." He stood up and blocked the corridor and waited until the boy had disappeared from view before rounding on Alice. Plunking the food on the kitchen bench, he stalked over until he was in her face.

"It's barely been an hour. What are you doing here?"

Alice smirked. "Ooh, so intimidating. I just wanted to see your new little pet in the flesh. Pictures just don't do him justice, he's adorable."

"Alice..."

"I need to examine him. You barely gave me any details about what happened, and there's only so much I can do without all the facts. Now, let me see him properly and I'll be off."

Silence as they just looked at each other, interrupted only by the hushed creak of a door as Justin crept into the room. Luther called over his shoulder.

"Justin? What are you doing?"

"Boss, that's Alice Morgan. DCU Schenk told me she escaped the prison psychiatric unit last month. What's she doing here – do you want me to call it in?"

"Ah, so this is your baby sergeant!" Justin flinched at that. "Such a sweet, little thing. Just come a bit closer, I need a good look at you before I can help."

"Boss?" And Luther quickly cuts in between them and blocked Alice at the small sound of fright attached to that.

Head titled around to talk over his shoulder, but still watching her, he addressed Ripley. "Justin, I said I had a friend who was helping me look into this. Alice can help, but apparently she's not satisfied with what information I had." Eyes narrowing. "What do you need, Alice?"

"As I said, just a quick examination of your pet and a peek at the medical records. Not much to ask, surely!"

"Why?" Justin had crept closer to be just behind Luther, phone in hand and posed to run.

"I need to know what I'm looking for. Come on." She stuck her hand out towards Ripley. "John's here and you're safe with me. John would never forgive me if I did anything mean to you. "

It was a reluctant Ripley that stepped forward and got within arm-reach. Luther was still skeptical. "I don't remember you having any medical training." Alice gave him a look. "It's been a month since you saw me and I thought it would be prudent to learn something new. Now, sit down. I won't be long."

She got Justin to take layer after layer off until his top half was only clad in a black under-shirt and his plaster cast. He stayed fairly stoic through it all, jumping slightly at the freezing stethoscope Alice slipped under his top, and glaring at the bright elephant-patterned pressure cuff. It was when Alice started tugging off his last layer that he protested.

"Oh, come on, it's hardly something to be precious about. John, grab him a safety blanket or something, your boy's see,s to be shy."

Luther scowled but handed Ripley his old jumper for warmth, patting him on the shoulder in support as Justin flushed in annoyance and discomfort. "Hurry up Alice. Now you're just being..."

With the vest gone John got his first proper look at Justin's chest. The bruises on his left side had started to green around the edge but they were still identifiable as boot prints stomping on his rib cage. But it was the reddish scars that got his attention. He hadn't got a good look at the hospital. Alice pointed at them. "Now what are these?"

Justin attempted to cover them up with his good hand. "Nothing important." They both looked at him. "They're nothing to do with this case."

"Justin..."

"Pell. Cameron Pell. I'm fine. Can I put my shirt on now, please?"

Alice leveled her gaze at Luther. "One of our cases from three, four weeks ago."

Neither men predicted her sudden intense interest. "O, just look at how the scars have aged, barely any fading. And this knife wound is still healing - you can still see the stitch marks. All child proportions-" Quick pat-down to confirm. "But these injuries..." Justin shifted away rapidly and pulled the jumper closer, Alice pulling it aside again to get a better look and multiple pictures on her phone. And Luther could see the way Justin cursed at his inability to win the tug-of-war.

Luther batted her hands away. "Leave off. Anything else, or have you got everything?"

Alice pouted while rummaging in her handbag. "Anyone would think you didn't like me, John. And here I am, being helpful, solving your case for you. I'll even send you a copy of those bruises." She tore a hypodermic needle from its sterile cover. "Now I need a blood sample and I'm done."

"I thought you wanted the medical records."

"I can get those myself. Not my first time pretending to be a doctor. Arm out."

Justin recoiled and Alice's grin got sharper. "O, am I starting to scare young detectives now?" Luther started forward and her tone changed smoothly. "Relax, John, your puppy needs to trust me a bit more, particularly when this case is interesting. Dear, dear Justin, stick out your right arm, count to, oh, forty-seven, and then I'll be on my merry way. You can close your eyes if it makes you feel better."

Justin chewed his cheek and glanced at Luther to check, before shoving his arm towards Alice, who promptly applied a tourniquet with her scarf, dabbed with alcohol and drew blood. She stood up, tucked with vial into her bag and sauntered straight to the door as the boy clumsily tried to stop the bleeding with an immobilised left arm.

"Bye John, bye Justin! Don't be strangers!"

The stunned pair sat as the door swung shut, until Luther moved to clamp a cotton bud over the needle mark.


	11. Chapter 11

Justin was negotiating his left arm down a sleeve when John finished sorting through the food and brought it over to the coffee table. In his new clothes John agreed with Mark; any child with Justin's bruised face and pained weariness would have Luther coaxing the child from a closet and having his parents arrested for abuse. Luther had to keep reminding himself that Ripley had enough problems without being treated like a child.

"I know you don't trust Alice but she has access to sources we don't. I promise, I'll take responsibility for her. Justin?"

His sergeant was still struggling his clothes and minding his injuries while he thought through his next words. "I want this case to be solved and I'll follow your lead on this, but shouldn't we arrest her? She escaped from a prison psychiatric ward!"

He sat down next to Justin and offered him a fork without prompting when his smaller hand struggled to operate the chopsticks.

"She's helping us at the moment. We can sort that out later. We have other friends helping us. Don't give up hope just because one has an interesting way of doing so."

There were a few minutes of quiet chewing before Luther fumbled in his pocket for a vibrating phone.

"Luther."

After a tense pause of anticipation, Justin went back to eating, slowly getting through his beef-rice concoction as Luther listened, affirmed, ended the call, and then contemplated his next move.

"Justin..."

"Hmm."

"Another body has been found. Not identified yet but they believe it may be related to the case. I'm needed at the crime scene."

Justin stopped eating and pushed his takeaway carton away. "...What do you need me to do?"

"I'm not sure whether it is wise for Jenny and Mark to be involved in whatever type of danger you are in, particularly if there are more victims. These people are serial killers and I don't know if they can track you here. I could call Alice back, she may be willing to stay here with you...maybe. What do you think?"

"I can take care of myself. You can leave me here, I'll be fine. I'm not helpless."

Luther scanned the room in thought. Justin eased his way off the couch and gingerly retrieved his bag from the bedroom, tucking his phone into the outside pocket and shifting the whole thing within grabbing distance. "I can do this. Go to the scene."

It was a test for both of them and Luther yielded. "Ring me if there's trouble. There is a spare gun in the bedside cabinet and don't be stupid - you are injured and small. Know your limits. That should cover everything. I'll move a mug and some teabags to the bench, and you wait until Jenny gets back."

Justin snagged his sleeve as he was pulling his long coat on from where it had been slung over one of the kitchen chairs, handing him the barely eaten carton of fried rice. Luther grinned and cuffed him gently 'round the head. "What are you, my nan?"

"Good luck, Boss."

Opening the driver's door, John stopped and peered back up at his flat window. Leaving Justin alone didn't well with him, not when his thirty-three year old sergeant was, at least physically, a temporarily disabled seven year old handling a gun the size of his current forearm. On the other hand, the scars left by Pell showed Ripley could handle himself just fine. He let it go and drove off.

Luther lifted the crime tape and stepped into the side street he had coasted along last night. It was still early enough in the evening that he had to push through a bundle of curious onlookers. A police officer pointed him in the right direction and Schenk gestured him closer to the body slumped against the car park's brick back wall. The white sheet draped over it covered the corpse but there was the shadow of blood stains threatening to seep into public view.

"Sir, what have we got?"

"A suspected ninth victim; a couple of needle marks on the left arm on this body, just like those uncovered this morning. They didn't try and hide this one though – some cooks came back here for a smoke and found her. Looks like she's been dead about four, five hours."

Luther crouched down and twitched the sheet away from the head.

"There's no chance of identification?"

"Post-mortem facial damage is too extensive for dental records, but Forensics hasn't finished looking for a fingerprint match. We'll know more when the body's been properly examined. Step over here."

Luther flicked the cover over the body again and moved to the numbered signs off to the right. Pieces of glass were scattered around with a person in a paper suit and latex gloves carefully manoeuvring them into an evidence bag.

"There are glass shards in the soles of the victim's shoes. We're not certain exactly what they are but pretty sure they somehow relate back to who's doing this and how. At the same time, someone tried to remove this woman's identity. She must be linked to the killers themselves."

"I hope so. Still, missing person reports and whatever the coroner can uncover."

Schenk hmmed and drifted off to talk to the forensic team, with Luther walking over to the entrance of the parking grounds, scanning the small group of bystanders in case someone stood out. It was optimistic but it was something.

He glanced back and then turned fully to get a good look at the scene. Luther pulled out his phone, flicked through the messages, put up a photo and stared.

His view was that of the picture he was sent yesterday, prompting him to find Ripley abandoned in the same parking ground he was standing in. The dead woman was posed in the centre of the scene, and that was likely to be no coincidence. He fumbled his phone when it rang, scrabbling to answer it.

"Luther."

"Hey, it's Benny. Boss told me to call if we found something on the new victim. It's nothing official but I've got a report from a medical research lab in the outer Hackney area. One of their research analysts didn't turn up either yesterday or this morning. Initial reports of your dead victim suggest they could be the same person."

"Can't jump to conclusions, but investigate further."

"Hey, mate, isn't that scene the same place the burner phone-"

"Sorry, Benny, gotta go. Good work, see you later!"

"Hang on, hang on man, I need to check - do you know what's happened to Ripley? The lad hasn't been seen or heard from since Thursday, and I can't seem to reach him through phone or email. Has he spoke to you? Do I need to send some one over?"

Luther rubbed his forehead in thought.

"Nay, let me handle it, ey? I'll call you later."

He ended the call with a huff of apprehension and turned back to the scene.


	12. Chapter 12

Ripley had shifted once from his chair in the lounge in order to take another painkiller. He had read the instructions twice that morning to check what the child dosage was, but still resented them. He was certain he could have toughed out the arm and bruises in his normal state but his new body was proving more vulnerable and sensitive than he had anticipated. He would have gladly been back in the sewer drain and Pell than needing John to dress him, but it was somehow worse to be pitied by Mark North and babied by strangers.

In the time since John had left, Justin had mainly stayed tucked up next to the table with his eyes on the door and ears straining for suspicious activity. John's loaded gun was resting atop the table. It had been a pain to fetch it, let along a glass of water. While John had been clear about the location, Justin was both unfamiliar with the flat layout and not used to having to stretch for a bench top, the taps, glasses...He would be happy when the case was resolved.

As it was, he was on edge. He didn't know how Luther knew to find him, but if he hadn't, Justin could have died from exposure, attacked by a child predator, his kidnappers could have returned - and he was too weak, too small to defend himself. Without Luther...

He started as the front door rattled and the knob turned inwards, scrambling a bit to grab the gun and flexing his fingers around the grip to touch the trigger. Justin slipped off his seat as the knob continued to twist and hunched down beneath the table as a figure stepped into the lit room.

Jenny shut the door and bustled into kitchen, plonking shopping bags onto the benches to free up her arms to make tea. "Oi, John, I'm back!"

Pause as there was no answer. "John?" And, a bit more cautiously. "Who's there?"

It was only when she walked into the lounge that she noticed the small school bag. Noted a shift in the shadows, she crouched and froze. Justin's eyes were big as he held the gun up, and he too froze at the sight of Jenny, failing to lower the hand gun pointing straight at her.

Jenny eventually leaned forward a tad and spoke softly "Hello...Justin. What are you doin' down here?"

Justin shrunk internally. "...Nothing..."

"How did you get a gun? Does John know you're here?" Jenny's voice was very calm as she slowly moved her weight over the balls of her feet.

"...Yeah. He left on a case. Left me the gun." Justin suddenly realised the situation, quickly lowering the muzzle, when Jenny shot forward and tore the gun from his hands, near dragging him out from the table in the process. He remained hunched on his knees, holding his ribs, while Jenny carried the gun to John's room and shut the door firmly.

He was still on the ground when she returned and stood over him. "Justin?"

A groan of acknowledgement. "You need any help to get up?" Another groan.

Jenny roughly helped him to sit up and lean against a table leg. But she did keep her distance and went to sit on the couch across the room from him. "I'm goin' to call John. You sit there and chill, 'kay?"

Justin absently nodded. He was still recovering from both the fright and fall, and didn't take in any of Jenny's phone call. He didn't want to talk to John about this. He had frozen and almost shot a teenage girl. If anything, he felt shame. Even when Jenny got up when the kettle finished and started making tea, he stayed down and waited for Luther.

After received Jenny's calm but frightening call, John plead exhaustion and excused himself from the office, driving straight to his flat. He had only left Ripley for five hours, maybe. Jenny opened the door for him and pointed to Justin sitting quietly at the table, a cup of weak tea cooling in front of him. The moment he saw Luther he retreated into his chair.

John told Jenny to give them a few minutes and took the seat opposite him.

"Justin...what happened?"

He took as big a breath as he could manage. "I was stupid. Didn't anticipate Jenny back, got ... got scared and wasn't quick enough to put the gun away."

He ducked his head as John sighed and looked about the room in thought. "What am I going to do with you, Justin?"

Justin sunk even lower into the chair. "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't think. Is the girl okay?"

"Jenny has faced worse than that. She seems more worried about you. More important is that you are okay. Are you?"

Justin ducked his head again. John nudged the tea closer over to him and said "'Course you're not. Drink your tea. I'll talk to Jenny." He stood up and rested his hand on Justin's shoulder. "Take a breath and get your head together. It's okay to not be okay, just ... calm yourself."

Jenny opened her door to John's knocking. "What did you say? Is he goin' ta be a problem?"

"No, you just startled him. He's jumpy but not a threat."

"He's, what, six and had a gun! I thought he was with Mark."

John shifted a bit, wishing to pace. "Both of you are safe here. I got called away to work but it will be fine. Are you alright?" Jenny wrapped her arms around her and nodded. "I'm fine. Now, any chance of some food; I'm hungry!"

Ripley was still quiet when John carried in a proper blanket and pillow and starting making up a bed on the couch. He had awkwardly apologised to Jenny, only to be both gently shoved and have his hair ruffled. The kid had ducked away but Jenny grinned at the disarray of his curls while chewing on semi-heated fried rice. The evening had settled into semi-domesticity, with John carefully assisting Justin in wrapping his arm so he could at least have a basic wash and brush his teeth using supplies from his bag.

Even with time to relax, he sat on the couch and remained head bowed as John approached.

"Justin, pretty sure everyone is exhausted today. Get some rest, eh? ... Justin?"

Justin was holding his cast up carefully. "Boss?"

"Can I have a look at that?" On closer inspection Ripley's exposed fingers were visibly puffer and mottled. "How long ago did you notice this?"

"Ten minutes? Arm's swollen."

John gave the boy a quick glance over. "I'll get the first aid kit and some ice. I should probably check the dressings on the rest as well. Meant to be cleaning them anyway." Most of the cuts and grazes just required a sterile wash but Justin nibbled his cheek when John dabbed at his forehead stitches with alcohol. It was when Luther was adjusting the sling that Justin burst out "John, what are we going to do? How long will it take 'til I'm normal?!"

Luther didn't look up from his task. "I don't know. But tomorrow, you and me, we're looking at this together, 'kay? I've got people helping with the case, running tests on everything we find. And, in the meantime, you've got me. Now put your head down and get some shut-eye. Been a long enough day for the both of us."


	13. Chapter 13

Ripley woke up first, and slowly levered himself to sit upright. It took a while for him to get dressed but John caught his sergeant just as he was reaching up to undo the security latch. There was a fleeting thought of going for it and running out the door, but he had failed to tie his shoelaces and Luther would catch him before he even twisted the door handle.

"Justin?" Ripley retreated under John's gaze and John was able to check the door before ducking to tug the bag out of his right hand. "Justin, what were you thinking of doing?" John looked very domineering in his sleep clothes. Even with the remnants of sleep in his eyes and bare feet he was able to intimidate Ripley all the way back to sitting on the couch, with the bag placed far across on the table. When Justin stayed quiet, John backed up to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water before resuming his interrogation.

"So, what was your plan once you had the door open?"

Ripley fiddled with his sling. "I thought I could backtrack what I could remember from that evening...find my car, look for evidence...help the investigation..." His voice petered out under the continuous stare. John sipped from the glass slowly before answering.

"A good idea. And what next? What would you have done next? Did you think beyond that?"

A surprising wave of anger hit Justin. "I need to do something! I can't just sit here, being shuffled between babysitters, waiting for a miracle, a confession, a murderer...a...a... I'm still able to help!" It was over as quick as it started. His one clenched fist rubbed his prickling eyes and propped up his chin. "I ... wasn't thinking straight, Boss, I'm sorry."

John leaned forward and waited for Ripley to raise his eyes again, and started speaking softly. "I know you are frustrated, and I promise I won't let you be kept away from the investigation. But what happens next depends on what you want to do." The boy's head shot up and Ripley focused sharply on John. "The case has become more complicated. Another murder and Benny has been trying to get a hold of you. This is where I ask you again: do you want to take this to Schenk or continue to work outside of the official investigation? It's your choice." And then he sat back in his chair.

"What would happen if Schenk or Benny knew?"

"I'm not certain. Benny has helped me out of some tricky spots - you can trust him. Schenk...he could surprise you. It would help the case to have you back. "

"And if they didn't know?"

"Alice and others are looking into this. I was hoping to check on your flat, your car, where you were taken, with your help. What do you want to do?"

Justin opened his mouth, then closed it again as he started nervously picking at his cast. John nudged his hands away. "I'll get a start on breakfast. Just mull it over for a minute" he said as they both heard Jenny loudly slamming her bedroom door on her way to the bathroom.

Both waited until the hiss of a shower-head for Justin to call to John in the kitchen. "What would Benny do, if I don't respond? Would he contact Schenk, or my family first? How long do you think I have before they start thinking me a missing person?"

John plated some scrambled eggs on toast and gestured to Ripley to join him at the table. "I don't know. We could go to your flat, you could email them." The boy hmmed and chewed his toast thoughtfully. John stretched out and yawned. "I might need to go into the office today, but could quickly swing by and grab your laptop at the very least. Then you could keep track of things and look for more leads back here, or where ever." Ripley nodded and slipped from his chair to get a glass of milk, calling from the kitchen, "I'll try to find footage from Thursday night. If I can find anything about the abductors..."

Jenny rounded the corner with towering towel turban in tow, frowned, and then dragged Justin's bag over because "Snotty looks like a smurf," effectively ended any more talk beyond John's coughed snigger and Justin's resigned grimace. HE knew that Justin would play nice, if only because he wanted to escape the flat.

Luther had Ripley directing him to his flat. While his sergeant had insisted upon picking Luther up from his residence, Ripley had never requested the same. Even after the Cameron Pell case, Justin had politely turned down Luther's offered lift from the hospital, instead taking the underground back home. As they pulled up to the estate, Ripley sunk further into his seat. Luther followed him up the grimey stairs, past a semi-clothed, smoking couple glaring from a corner of a landing, along a peeling corridor to a one bedroom flat on the fifth-floor.

Justin kept watch while John strong-armed the door open. Cautiously stepping inside, it was exactly how he expected it to be. Mainly just the basics - an unmade bed, a table, two chairs, a small kitchenette, a kettle - but it had the air of making-do. The items looked to be second-hand, possibly from charitable relatives, with a worn but well-maintained feel to them. A few photos were perched on a table, a bookcase, none of Justin. John looked away as Justin entered behind him and crossed the floor to hunt through his crowded desk for his laptop.

"Boss, it looks like they hacked my laptop from a separate location. My email and files seem to have been accessed in the past few days. They would have got my personal information from cards in my wallet, but", turning his whole body around to view the room, "I don't immediately see anything out of place."

It crossed both their minds that he was viewing the room from a slightly different perspective from normal. John rested his elbows on the back of one of the chairs and gave a obvious sweep of the flat. "I should check out the rest of the flat. Check they haven't left any surprises."

"Good idea, I'll check the bathroom." Justin hopped off his swivel chair and disappeared into the next room while John started opening kitchen cabinets. He didn't comment when Ripley returned with a foul expression and pulled a chair into the bathroom with him. They were working the search methodically when the front door was sudden flung open and a canister chucked in. John had perhaps five seconds to sprint and curl around Justin before things exploded.


	14. Chapter 14

Both blinked as the fire broke out. The percussive blast had caught the two as they stood in the middle of the lounge and had hurled them into the table behind them. Luther had propelled them both towards to the floor, which now prickled with splinters, and gingerly climbed back unto his knees. Having deployed stun grenades before, he was familiar with the aftereffects but it still took a few moments for him to clear his head.

John turned only his head and shoulders to take in the smoking fragments of door and carpets, with the flames just starting to appear to climb up the remains of dining chair. He had barely reached Ripley and the boy remained sprawled on the carpet, dazedly blinking and lolling his head around in an attempt to focus. Justin had turned to look at the intrusion and, despite Luther acting as a partial shield, blood was trickling from numerous cuts on his face. When John nudged him, there was a small whimper and a murmured "Boss?"

"Come on Justin, we need to get out of here! Are you okay to stand up?"

The only answer was another whimper and a groan. Some of the blood looked to be trickling from Ripley's ears so Luther quickly checked his eyes, head and neck for any serious injuries, before he lifted him into a sitting position. Holding a barely-conscious Ripley against him, Luther arose at a staggered pace until he was standing up with his sergeant pressed to his side. Most of the main flat was damaged in the explosion though somehow Justin's laptop had survived ricocheting off the wall to the floor. It was just as well Justin was out of it so he was spared the sight of his hard-won domesticity strewn around the room. Staggering a bit as he dragged Justin with him, John rummaged around until he found a battered backpack to cram the laptop in. He hesitated for a second, eyes scanning the room, before grabbing a few of the photos and a coat that were scattered nearby.

Ripley was alarmingly limp and quiet as his home ignited. The removal of Luther's grip about his chest had caused him to slip before being propped up against a shredded bookcase. Luther dared to look him over a second time in the growing heat of the flat, only for his face to freeze at the young boy's wan complexion and shallow breathing.

The smoke was getting distinctly thicker and the flames were crawling along the carpet at this point. He could hear some yells beyond the shrill beeping of a fire alarm, so Luther knew the fire department had been alerted, but it was becoming uncomfortable to breathe. Dropping to the glass-littered floor wasn't his preferred choice, but he did hunch low with Ripley sprawled over his shoulder in a effort to support his dead weight. Luther took a few deep breaths and braced himself. And then charged straight through the flame-circled doorway.

Slinking back to his car wasn't an option. His exit had hardly been subtle. The crowd simultaneously reared back and charged forward to catch him as he spluttered and wheezed, stooping even lower in the fresh air. After he had fought, and lost, to keep contact with Ripley, John was forced to trail the well-meaning, off-duty nurse down to the car park in preparation for a check-up from the paramedics. Even though he protested against the need, he knew it was impossible for him to slip away without Ripley, who was in no condition to leg it.

Currently nothing was bothering him more than the way he and Justin were being separated. Any time he brushed aside the paramedic and started towards the other ambulance he was pushed back and had the oxygen mask replaced, doing nothing to improve his growing concern. Firefighters were milling around, the police officers couldn't be far off, and it was obvious the explosion was a deliberate attack. He was near-vibrating with nervous energy as he kept watch for threats.

Finally the medic in front of him moved and he had a clear view of Ripley. Still unused to Justin's childish appearance his heart stuttered as he saw the small boy covered in a blanket and oxygen mask, someone seemingly holding his hand and cooing while a oxygen monitor and IV cannula were being prepped.

He forcibly shrugged off his own medic and staggered over in his own shock blanket. Luther nudged the female paramedic.

"How's he doing?"

"Are you a parent or caregiver? Did you at all witness what happened during the fire?"

"Yeah, yeah, I was there, I'm caring for him, how is he? There was an explosion and he was barely conscious when I got to him."

"Going off the preliminary examination, it seems to be a mixture of smoke inhalation and ruptured eardrums. He needs to go to the hospital, just to be sure, but he should be okay. The lack of consciousness was most likely due to the shock of the explosion." Luther was directed to sit on the edge of the ambulance while the lady continued to monitor Ripley's condition. He tucked the tatty bag closer and glanced around. There was no way he would be able to hide this from the department.

Stifling a claggy cough, he pulled out his mobile phone and dialed Benny.

"Hey, Benny!"

"Hey John, what can I do for you?"

"I'm afraid it's going to hard to explain it all over the phone. I'm in Hackney, near New North Rd. There's been a fire at Ripley's flat. Would you be somehow able to meet me at the nearest hospital in the next half hour? I will explain more there, but this...this is one of those sorts of favours."

"Anything special you need me to sort before I step out?"

"You're the best, Benny. Can you put me down as the lead officer handling the investigation into the fire? And bring Schenk along with you - seriously, I will explain when you get there, I promise. Okay. Cheers."

Luther ended the call and scrunched his face as he looked around again at the crowds and chaotic response. The firefighters seemed to have put out the fire, but he doubted much of Ripley's living room could be salvaged. Dwelling on that, John suddenly started and tugged at the sleeve of the medic checking on Ripley.

"How long will he need an oxygen mask? Will he be out for much longer?"

She frowned at him in faint annoyance. "It's not that simple. Until he regains consciousness, there is no real way to know how much he has been affected. We just have to be patient."

"I understand. I ask because, well, he was involved in a traumatic incident just over a month ago and-"

Both Ripley's arms flew up, scrabbling at his neck as he started to gasp. John grasped one of Justin's hands and used his own to tug the oxygen mask off, leaving it crookedly resting on his forehead as he tried to catch the other clawed hand hampered by the medical cast.

"Justin, JUSTIN! It's okay, you're safe, calm down!"

The medic was on his other side, moving to replace the oxygen mask. John held both wrists in one hand and pushed her away from the stretcher. "No, stop! He's scared of the plastic mask. I started to explain before, that the kid would have a bad reaction to it."

"Well, he still needs it, until we can check his lungs. Can't you get him calm enough for us to put it back on?"

John just glared at her as he finished tugging the mask off and let Justin clutch at his arm. "I'm sure, now he's awake, that you can check if he's having any difficulty." Justin was gradually calming. He had a strong, one-handed grip on John's sleeve, his cast similarly wrapped around the arm which was barring him from attacking his neck. Chest still heaving slightly, the boy's eyes darted around until they landed on the medic and he made a marked effort to relax.

She reluctantly stored the oxygen mask in the back of the ambulance and starting condescending comforting Justin while John continued to stick close.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am embarrassed how long it has taken it has taken me to update. First it was just writer's block, then...well...it really hasn't been a good year. Thankfully 2017 is improving somewhat. Thanks so much to those still reading this story!

The smell of antiseptic was becoming distressingly familiar to Justin as he shifted uncomfortably. After he had arrested Cameron Pell, the swarm of police officers and paramedics had ushered him along to an ambulance to be checked over, along with the school children who were still milling around . It was Gray and Schenk who had dragged him to the side and into a car to the hospital. The trauma and moderate to severe second-degrees burns kept him there for almost two weeks, with visits from co-workers, therapists, and a highly-supervised journalist. While he understood and appreciated the concern, the idea of being coddled again was ... no.

At least Luther had taken care to give space beyond that necessary to maintain his guardianship. Ripley was learning the difference in hospital treatment when you stand below 5 foot. He didn't remember this many Disney character motifs on the equipment. Or toys stashed in the corner. He and John had been ushered into a side room when they arrived. Putting up a strong fascade in front of the nurses, the boy walked alongside his boss to steady himself. His ears were ringing and his balance seemed off but he managed to make all the way to the bed. John had subtly kicked a small stool over to stop Justin having to ask for help up. Ripley was so focused on his ascent that he took a moment to realise Luther had ducked out.

Just as they had arrived John received a text message from Benny warning him of their approach. He met both Benny and Schenk standing at the desk at the main emergency entrance. Schenk turned his sharp gaze on John and "Luther, I pray you have an explanation for this diversion from our running case."

"Yes, Boss, thanks for coming. I promise it has relevance to the case. I know that this will initially seem implausible but I'm sure it is linked to the recent murders. This way."

A nurse had stepped into the room to take basic stats while Luther was absent, and Ripley was relieved when the door opened and he saw Luther enter. Tugging off the hospital blanket, finger oximeter, and the temporary head dressing, he pushed himself towards the edge of the bed to jump off. However, the moment Schenk and Benny walked in, everyone but Luther froze and stared in dumb surprise. Both guests paused and blinked at the sight of the child working his way up to a panic, until Luther closed the door and moved forward to stand beside Justin.

Schenk cleared his throat awkwardly. "So...Luther, would you kindly explain?" Benny moved closer to get a better look but was halted by both Schenk and Luther gesturing for him to stop. Ripley was visibly skittish at Luther's side. Shrinking behind John, the child struggled to regulate his breathing amid the residual coughing from the smoke. John carefully shifted himself to allow Justin a physical barrier to peer around or lean against, and he rubbed his hands together nervously. "This is DC Justin Ripley. I believe his condition to be related to the current case the team is working on."

There was a brief hesitation, punctuated with a stifled cough. "Do you have evidence to support that?"

"Besides interrogating him on previous cases, private conversations, and anything else I could think of?"The boy had a white-knuckled grip on John's coat sleeve and there was an involuntary whimper when the arm moved to scrub a hand over his face. "The same mannerisms? The strong physical resemblance? I'm positive that this is Ripley, sir, however impossible it seems."

Both men slowly moved further into the room. Schenk approached the bed cautiously and Justin focused on regaining some composure under the scrutiny of his blue gaze. John shifted to sit beside him, revealing the arm cast, cuts and bandages that caused Schenk to pause and his eyes to narrow. "And just how did you come to find the DC in...like this?"

Luther glanced up at Benny. "I was sent a photo of a location by an unknown number and arrived to find Ripley abandoned and in an unconscious state. Having come around and established his identity, I took him to a hospital to have his injuries treated and run blood tests. That was three days ago." Schenk met Justin's nervous gaze and prompted "DC Ripley, do you remember anything from before then?" The boy startled at the direct question.

Steeling himself, Ripley sat up to report. "No, sir, my last recollection before...then, I was heading to my car following the arson case. And I haven't managed to remember anything more yet." His fist clenched in his lap. "We visited my flat today and someone decided to blow it up. Sir, I have no idea what has happened, please believe me!"

Benny moved forward from the corner where he had been working off his smartphone. "I can verify the fire. The initial fire service and police reports both state a improvised grenade as the start of the fire in the flat. The only damage was to DC Ripley's place. And I have the hospital records from Friday - excluding the...obvious differences, he has the same blood type and medical info on his police file." Benny shot an apologetic glance to Justin. "I checked in case there was any update on the test results."

DSU Schenk pursed his lips and closed his eyes momentarily as he hosted an internal debate. The quiet spell fell throughout the room, every man contemplating the situation at hand.

Justin started to lean more heavily against Luther only to jump in shock as the hospital blanket was unexpected draped over him. He twisted his head to catch sight of Benny backing up with his hands raised, even while Luther reached his own hand around to tug the blanket even closer. He gently nudged Justin and murmured "Just relax a bit, mate. You're too tense. You're safe at the moment, just relax."

However much Justin objected to the paternal gesture as an act of condescension, it was undeniably comforting to hide from Schenk's gaze in the folds of fabric. The muffled ringing in his left ear, a side-effect of the explosion, formed most of the quiet musings from his colleagues into a form of white noise and so Ripley slowly unwound into a dozing boy slumped against John.

Luther held up a hand to stop the conversation around him. Schenk slowly walked forward and carefully slide the edge of the blanket down enough to passively look over Justin's still-bruised face. 'John...what made you call me in? You have obviously managed to keep this secret the whole time. What caused you to involve us?"

His naturally soft voice didn't stir Justin. John growled in an equally quiet rumble. "Too dangerous, sir. I can't keep Ripley after, not if I don't know what I'm fighting."


End file.
